I am a Cat Woman. My self-appointed mission in life is to save the feline world! To accomplish this mission, I get cats fixed. Perhaps my mission might be slightly delusional. This blog is a mishmash of wishful thinking, rants, experiences as I remember them and of course, cat stories and cat photos. I have a nonprofit now, to help keep the cats here cared for and to fix community cats. Happy Cat Club formed in 2015. Currently, we are on a mission to fix 10,000 cats.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Peeman Sam Nails My Tracfone

I had my tracfone sitting on an otherwise empty shelf for the night. This evening, I went to get it, to put in my purse, and it was wet. "Oh no!" I gasped. Yes, Peeman Sam had nailed my tracfone.

I was up half the night a couple nights ago, in preparation for night trapping. I have to alter my sleep schedule to do it. In the middle of the night, I saw a light shadow creep up the street from the apartment complex, zigging and zagging back and forth, house to house, tire to tire.

The shadow ended up in my yard. Every cats was watching and excited, from my windows. This was a big orange tabby tom, lighter in color than my last orange tabby catch here, of a few weeks ago. I understood Peeman Sam's latest outbursts then. I immediately began to take action to catch this latest unfixed free roamer.

I believe this is the apartment complex feral, I was told about, by a woman who feeds there, who lost interest in getting them fixed after I helped her trap three cats, but not the orange one.

If I am ever able to catch him, he will be cat number 21 whom I've gotten fixed right from my yard since moving here. That is one of the reasons I want out of Albany. The numbers of free roaming abandoned or barely noticed cats in a community says a great deal about that community.

I've rehomed way over half of the twenty fixed so far, after I was unable to locate an owner.

Anyhow, so Peeman Sam is my canary, alerting me when yet another unfixed male is routinely in my yard. I would rather have a real canary keeling over, however, when a new male shows up, than Sam's pee marking behavior. Don't worry, I would resuscitate the canary. I'd get a human to beak conversion mouth to mouth kit and a teensy little defibrillator.

Once I got over the shock, and outrage, over my tracfone, I did what one website said to do: I removed the battery, patted the wet spots dry and stuck the battery and fone, separately, into a bag of rice, which is supposed to absorb the moisture. I'm then supposed to wait three days, use one of those canned forced air products for dusting computers to blow out rice residue, put the battery back in and hope it works.